Audio
by Miruvix
Summary: Listen. Listen well. Short MelloMatt fic. [Spoilers only if you don't know who Matt is. Rated T for language.]


**Title:** Audio

**Author:** Miru

**Rating:** T for some language

**Warning:** None, unless you don't know who Matt is.

**Notes:** Something a little less gloomy, for once.

-----

Matt usually liked the sound of electricity. Usually. Well, not so much the sound of electricity itself as he liked the sound of the things electricity brought to life - the quiet humming of the various laptops, the whir of the aim conditioner in the corner, and the tinny music wafting out of the television as he mashed the controller, making his little pixel character hop, jump, stumble through a forest of zombies. The rain outside drummed at the windows, occasional lightning flashes illuminating the sky before the darkness took over once more. But here he was inside, gaming away, Mello dozing on the couch. Good times, good times. Even good enough to make him hum along with all the ambient buzzing and beeping.

Then there was a noise he didn't like. It sounded something like BZRRRARKT! and was accompanied by a bright flash of light - bright, brighter than any lightning, like a pure white explosion - a few tinkling noises as a lightbulb or two burst, then darkness.

Sitting in the darkness, Matt realized he hadn't saved in the past two hours.

"Shit."

Ah, well, it was all stuff he could easily do again.

"Hey, Mello. Wake up."

"Already awake." The blond's voice sounded cranky, not yet fully awake, and there was a rustling noise. Probably Mello sitting up and realizing that their crummy little apartment was suffering from a blackout. "I told you to stop overloading the fuses when it's storming."

"I wasn't overloading them!" Matt was having trouble keeping the smirk on his face creeping into his voice - the pitch blackness made it all too easy for his mind to wander, and, at the moment, he was wondering if Mello had any bedhead from sleeping with his head crammed into the armrest of the couch; Mello always had glorious bedhead. "It was only six laptops... and the Playstation."

The sarcasm in Mello's voice was almost tangible in the dark. "Yeah. Wasn't overloading them." The rumbling noise of thunder sounded in the distance, followed by more rustling. The tapping of boots on the floor. "If the light doesn't come on soon I'm going to shoot someone."

"Why? You were just sleeping there."

"Doesn't mean I like sitting around with nothing on."

"Oooh, Mello, afraid to sleep in the dark?"

"If it weren't too dark to aim, I'd shoot you."

"Don't worry, Mello, I'll keep your secret safe with me."

"Safe with you?" A contemptuous snort, though the blond sounded more amused than irritated. "Yeah, you'd probably be too busy gaming to tell anyone."

"That--" A pause, and Matt pouted. Not that Mello would be able to see it, but hey, it was the thoughts that counted. "...fine. I'll admit that one."

Another rumble of thunder echoed from outside, but, this time, was followed by a small crackling noise, a few tiny clicks and whirrs, and a blinking noise.

"At least the generator's back on time." More rustling, and the creaking of the couch. Probably as Mello got up.

--wait.

"Uh, Mello?" Matt rose to his knees unsteadily, casting around worriedly. Mello had said the generator was on time, and those noises were the sounds the lights made. There, even his laptops were rebooting, making their familiar beeps and whirrs and clicks. Then why--

"What the fuck are you doing?" The soft _thunk_s of boot heels on the floor, and Mello's voice came from just beside him, dubious with just the right tint of 'have you lost your fucking mind?'

Matt sat back down the floor, pushed his goggles up to his forehead, rubbed his eyes furiously, then looked up to where Mello's voice had come from.

...fuck.

"Mello. I can't see."

-----

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

"I'm the one who should be saying that."

"No, I am, since I'm stuck with a fucking blind hacker."

"Oh the irony."

"Meant to emphasize how useless you are at the moment."

"I love you too, Mello."

"Shut up."

Five minutes after the blackout, and Matt had managed to grope his way to the couch, where he was sitting now, reveling - grudgingly - in the darkness that was surrounding him. It was impressive, really. The beeping and whirring meant that the electricity was back on, the he couldn't see anything. Probably wouldn't be able to see his hand if he brought it up to his face. Sure, why not try it? His hand was halfway up towards his face when Mello sat down next to him with a snort.

"No, you can't see it. I was waving my hands a fucking inch from your nose the past minute, and you didn't even notice."

"Oh yeah, lovely. Thanks a lot for the unannounced experimentation."

"Welcome."

The snapping noise of chocolate being broken.

"How long does it last?"

"What?"

"Don't tell me this is the first time this's fucking happened."

Of course, Mello, as sharp as ever. Matt leaned back into the couch with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. "Happened twice before. Lasted one day the first time." An awkward pause, which Mello didn't miss; he punctured it with a question, sharp and criticizing.

"And the second time?"

Matt scratched his head. "...a week."

"Fuck."

"Well, this time it happened a lot like it happened the first time so it probably won't last more than a day."

"How did you last a week blind?"

"Magic."

"..."

"Okay, fine. I don't remember, but it involved lots of sleeping and not eating much."

"You starved yourself for a week?"

"Oh yeah. Not being able to smoke much was worse."

"Fucking addict."

"Thanks."

The sound of an aggravated breath being let out, and the couch gave a sort of a half-hearted whimper as Mello sank back into it. Or at least, that was how it sounded.

(Sounded.)

"...heh."

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

Matt leaned back on the couch, a grin set off a few degrees by the unlit cigarette in his mouth gracing his face, his head canted up towards the ceiling. Reaching for his pocket, he drew out his lighter, flicked it on.

(Tink, click. Whirrrrrrr, click click, bzzt. Snap. The sound of chocolate breaking. Mello's footsteps on the ground, tap tap tap. Tap tap. A pause.)

"Give that here. You're bringing it up to your lips, you're going to burn yourself.

(A shark clink as Mello took the lighter, closing it in the process - clicked it back on, snick, _fwoosh_, the gentle burning noise of the flame.)

"Thanks." He could feel his cigarette grow warmer, waited for the heat of the flame to disappear before taking in a slow drag, the taps of Mello's boots on the floor (then the creak of the sofa again) in the air.

[Last time this had happened, he'd spent a lonely week in his apartment, sleeping as much as he could to drown out the silence. There was just so much he could do without his eyes, and the overwhelming silence - punctuated only by the occasional buzzing or rustling - took reign over his house.

He'd hated it.

"S'just a fucking cigarette."

The sound of more chocolate breaking.

"No, really. Thanks."

"Did you hit your head? Not like you to say things like that."

"Haha, maybe."

"Don't go insane on me. I don't need my hacker to be insane as well as blind."

"Oh, I feel so loved."


End file.
